Author's Note: This was originally an entry for 's August contest - rewrite a scene from Breaking Dawn from another character's POV. I would love to thank everyone at the website for considering this piece to be worthy of honorable mention on your fantastic site! : I really appreciate the chance, it means so much.


This is the part during Book II when Jacob first goes to see Bella. I hope I got everything just right! Please, please read and review. Thanks so much!!



Because it was a monster. Just like its father. I always knew he would kill her.

I try my best to ignore Jacob's thoughts – out of respect for Bella and sanity's sake - and usually, I am very good at it. But this time, his words pierced through my carefully constructed shield, allowing for electric rage to seep through my bloodless veins and consume me. It wasn't so much his insult towards me. I had admitted to myself long ago that I was a monster, and the most recent of events only proved what I already knew. But this child carried a piece of Bella. Bella, the farthest thing from a monster. And she loved her child more than anything. If Jacob Black mentioned to Bella the words he had just conjured up in his thoughts, it would only add to her struggles. I would be damned if I let that happen.

I bared my teeth and glared threateningly at the mutt before me, "Outside, Jacob."

"Let's do this," he encouraged. I knew that he wanted nothing more than to fight me. The fight between he and I was something he had pondered since the beginning, coming up with every possible scenario as to how it would happen. He himself had realized his small chances at victory. But now, both Jacob Black and I doubted that I could fight, let alone emerge the winner. Everything inside me that could be broken was. Everything inside me that could die had been burned at the stake long ago.

I felt warm fingers grip my forearm, pulling me away from Jacob. I turned to see the girl I loved, chocolate eyes filled with so many varieties of pain. Her pain was my pain, and it hurt me more than anything else ever could. But I couldn't let this show. I tried to neutralize my face, but to no avail. Bella saw through my pretenses, as she always did. I watched helplessly as worry for me mixed with pain in the endless pools of her eyes.

"I just need to talk to him," I reassured her, softening my tone with some effort. Pushing back my anger towards Jacob even further, I lightly stroked her hollowing cheekbones with my fingertips, "Please rest. We'll both be back in just a few minutes."

Bella reluctantly nodded as I turned my attention back towards Jacob. With a final glance, I headed outside with the dog at my heels. Once again, he was planning an attack, this time hoping to surprise me from behind.

I sighed, "I'm not ready for you to kill me yet, Jacob Black. You'll have to have a little patience." Not much patience, though. How much longer did she have, in truth? Weeks? Days? Once her heart stuttered to a stop – I shuddered – I would be begging for him to kill me.

He bothered to speak, although I knew his words before he had time to speak them, "Patience isn't my specialty." Both he and I knew he couldn't bear to hurt Bella by murdering me while she still breathed in and out. Because, for some reason unknown to me, she still loved me. Despite what I was putting her through.

At last, I felt as though I had collected myself to the best of my abilities and turned to face Jacob. Everything inside me desired to fight him. To rip him to shreds until he was nothing but a pile of fur. But broken men cannot fight. I was beyond broken.

I stared at Jacob, but I didn't see him. All I saw was Bella. Not the smiling Bella I usually saw in every thought I had, but the Bella of the present. The dying Bella. No, I could not think that. I felt myself gasping, longing to surface and return to life as it should be. I reached to my forehead, as if to tear the thought from my mind. But my kind have memories that never fail.

I finally snapped out of it, saw what was actually there. Jacob examined my expression for a moment. I literally heard it click in his head as his eyes met mine: Bella was dying.

"It's killing her, right? She's dying." His voice shook slightly, but I hardly noticed.

Of course, I knew this. It was always on my mind and I could not escape it. Yet, none of my family had dared to speak those words, or think them, when I was around. Hearing Bella's fate aloud, and recognized by someone other than myself, affected me in an indescribable way. Jacob stood there. Waiting for me to confirm his words. Waiting for me to admit that she was coming to an end because of me. Well, he was right. What was the point in denying it any longer?

I could barely manage a whisper, but I responded, "My fault."

And then the world around me caved in, and there was nowhere to go. I was somewhat conscious of my knees buckling, collapsing beneath the weight of my pain and responsibility for Bella's impending end. Reckless sobs broke from my chest, but tears could not come as I hit the dirt below me. I was certain that, if it weren't for Bella holding me here, I would be long gone. Burning in hell where I should be. Where I would be once this was over and done with.

"Yes," I said at last, "Yes, it's killing her."

They say that acknowledgement is supposed to lift the weight from ones' shoulders. Yet here I lay, hopelessly weak. As it should be. I deserved everything, everything and more.

"So why hasn't Carlisle done anything? He's a doctor, right? Get it out of her." Jacob hissed, stating the painfully obvious. As if I hadn't thought of this from the second I had realized what was to come.

I forced my eyes open and looked up at Jacob, "She won't let us."

And how I wished she would. Carlisle promised her a painless procedure to remove it. I had promised to remain by her side the entire way, holding her hand. However, she couldn't be swayed. She was so adamant for a reason that I still didn't understand, though she had explained it countless times.

"Edward, don't you understand?" She had asked serenely, caressing my cheek with her warm scent. Although she was in obvious pain, she had looked up at me with an undeserved smile and said, "He is yours and mine. He is both of us. Tied together."

"Bella –" I had started, unable to go from there.

"No, Edward," She sighed, still flashing her beautiful smile up at me, "Please, please don't. This little Edward - he means more to me than my own life. Because he is us. Purely us."

How could I argue with the final wishes of my beloved?